


Dignity & Disdain

by ArielSakura



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pride and Prejudice Fusion, Eventual Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Pride and Prejudice References, Quidditch Player Harry Potter, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 00:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura/pseuds/ArielSakura
Summary: At a Ministry Ball, Blaise Zabini finds more than he previously thought in Pro-Quidditch player Harry Potter. But after offending him and earning Harry's disdain, can Blaise put aside his dignity and make amends?





	Dignity & Disdain

**Author's Note:**

> This story will follow the Pride & Prejudice movie starring Kiera Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen, (the one with the English ending, not the American) I had hoped to get this finished for the fest but the first chapter will have to do! Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Need to thank my Alpha for this story, noxsoulmate, for the superb listening ear she provides and all the help she gives!

Harry wound himself through the swarms of people, looking for a friendly face in the crowd, hoping to extricate himself from the clutching grasp of women intent on slipping him a love potion. 

Spotting a familiar head of red hair, Harry hurried forward. 

Ron turned just as he approached and grinned at him, “Mate! Didn’t think you were gonna make it tonight?” 

Harry grimaced.

“Kinglsey quite literally dragged me from my desk and booted me through the floo.”

Ron snorted, “He do your robes, too? I think maybe he needs to check your sizing again.”

Harry glanced down at his splendidly transfigured robes, they were of the darkest green with faint golden stitching and matching buttons. The cut was of a regency style, one Harry normally preferred when forced into dress robes, it left his legs unencumbered so as to engage in combat as needed, Moody’s warning of ‘_ constant vigilance’ _still hadn’t left him after all these years and it was handy if he needed to make a quick getaway. Percy had gasped in horror at the worn state of Harry’s jeans and quickly transfigured them into dragonhide pants. He might have been a bit too hasty in that area, as the pants were a little tighter than he usually wore.

Harry glanced around quickly and tugged on the pants a little, trying to give himself some more room, “No, _ that_, was your brother, Kingsley brought him along, Percy’s far too good at transfiguration.”

“That would be due to all the practice I’ve had at this particular task, Harry,” came Percy’s voice from behind Harry, “I should thank you for keeping my skills up to par, I don’t get too much practise as the Minister’s Cheif Understudy. You could thank me, for not allowing you to have your picture taken in such an abhorrent state as you were when we liberated you from your study.”

Harry rolled his eyes along with Ron but clapped his hand on Percy’s shoulder, “Thanks, Perce, but next time, can you make the trousers a little looser?”

Percy sniffed, “They are _dragonhide_ trousers and you’re wearing pants under them. Any aficionado of dragonhide knows you shouldn’t wear pants under such a garment, particularly not the boxers you tend to favour.” 

With a nod, he turned and flounced away. His robes spinning to show his own pair of dragonhide trousers underneath. 

“Please obliviate me,” Ron begged, “We did _ not _just hear that Percy likes to go commando.”

Harry nodded vaguely, “Only if you do me first, mate.” 

“Oi, have you seen who Hermione’s been dancing with all night?” Ron asked, nudging Harry into a topic change.

He pointed toward the dancefloor and Harry craned his neck to see. 

“_ Malfoy?” _

“Yup, this is like, their fifth dance.”

Harry’s head snapped to his friend, “Really?”

Ron nodded seriously, “What do you think he wants with her?”

Harry shrugged as he turned back to watch Malfoy waltz Hermione around the room, “Dunno, he’s alright though now, he treated Teddy for a bad cold the other week St Mungo’s. Seems to have changed quite a bit from school.”

Ron made a non-commital noise as Harry scanned the crowd around the dancefloor. He snagged two whiskeys as the came past on a tray and handed one to Ron as he noticed two individuals watching Malfoy’s sudden fixation on Hermione with as much interest as them. He nudged Ron in the ribs and gestured with his head. 

“Oh, yeah, Parkinson and Zabini are back in the country, Parkinson’s portkeyed in last night - stopping over from her latest modelling contract in America before she flits off for the Paris fashion week. Zabini got in a little over a week ago. Apparently, they are both staying with Malfoy at the moment, Parkinson lost most of her family holdings in reparations for the war and Zabini’s mother got married last weekend.”

Harry arched his eyebrows at his friend and gave him a worried look, “You know, you’re a bigger gossip than your mother, is that all you do in the shop all day?”

Ron grinned at him, “Hey, you’re the one who’s always asking me for it, I’m just making sure I’m providing you with the most up to date information.”

Harry huffed and Ron expertly dodged the elbow aimed at his ribs. 

“Mind you, Parkinson certainly turned out alright, didn’t she?”

Harry followed his friend's eyes back across the room, Parkinson certainly did strike an enticing figure, particularly for the average red-blooded male. Her emerald silken dress clung to all the right curves and the slit in the skirt opened high on her thigh, exposing a svelte pair of long legs. 

“You do remember she tried to hand me over to Voldemort, right?”

Ron made a pishing noise and flapped his hand in Harry’s face. 

“For legs like those, I would too.”

Harry huffed a grin into his whiskey glass and he and Ron began to talk of other things. 

~*~*~*~*~_ Dignity & Disdain _~*~*~*~*~

It was a short time later when Hermione had finished dancing and she came to join Harry and Ron. 

“Oh, Harry! I honestly didn’t expect to see you here, I know how much you abhor these Ministry balls.”

Harry was about to shrug it off when Ron threw him under the bus, “Shacklebolt kicked him through the floo.”

Hermione stifled her laugh by pressing her fingertips to her lips. 

“Thanks, mate,” Harry muttered. 

Ron merely grinned at him and summoned a firewhiskey for them both off a nearby floating tray. 

“Anything for you?” he asked Hermione.

She shook her head and looked Harry over critically, “You look rather more uncomfortable than usual, Harry.” 

He fidgeted, “It’s the trousers,” he murmured quietly.

Hermione’s eyes flew to them item in question and went wide in realisation, “You're wearing your boxers aren’t you?”

Harry gestured violently with his drink, the fiery liquid nearly spilling with the action. 

“Why do people keep mentioning my underwear?” he hissed, his eyes darting around for nearby reporters. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped in to embrace him in a friendly-looking hug. 

Only Harry noticed she had palmed her wand and only he knew that she stuck it down the back of his trousers hiding her actions with the long tail of his coat. He was also the only one to hear her whisper the vanishing spell. 

He yelped in shock as she pulled back. 

“Better?” she asked. 

“I don’t want to know the answer, thanks,” Ron remarked as Harry shifted on his feet again. 

Harry was saved from answering by the arrival of Malfoy and Zabini, Parkinson was not with them for the moment and Harry noted a swish of green heading toward the ladies room. 

Harry’s eyes quickly catalogued Zabini’s appearance. He hadn’t changed overly much from school. His cheekbones were still sharp, and he still maintained that haughty, closed-off demeanour. He had grown some though, he was a good head taller than Harry and his frame had certainly filled out. Harry was suddenly reminded that the majority of the Hogwarts population had all swooned over Zabini at some point or another. Either his looks or his money, which he still fairly reeked of. 

“Here,” Malfoy said softly to Hermione as he handed her a stem of sparkling champagne. 

“Oh! Thanks!” 

Harry watched as her nose wrinkled slightly as she sipped, Hermione wasn’t much of a champagne girl, it was too dry for her preferred taste. She usually went for something sweeter.

“Malfoy,” Harry nodded.

“Potter, Weasley,” Draco nodded in return, “You remember Blaise Zabini from school?”

“Course,” Ron said for the both of them as Harry nodded at Malfoy’s companion. 

“I thought I remembered hearing you went to Italy after school?” Harry remarked as he sipped from his tumbler. 

“I did. I’m back,” Zabini replied curtly. 

The conversation stagnated and the band struck up a new song.

“Would you like to dance again, Granger?” Malfoy asked, offering his arm.

Hermione blushed and handed her glass off to Ron, “I’d love too.”

Malfoy whisked her off and Harry and Ron were left standing awkwardly with Zabini. Ron tossed back the last of his drink and then the champagne as well, before moving off muttering something about finding another before he left Harry alone with Zabini. 

Harry shuffled awkwardly on his feet for a moment, before settling on a relatively safe topic. 

“Do you dance at all, Zabini?”

Zabini smirked over his glass, “Not on a dancefloor, if I can help it.”

Harry cocked his head in confusion before they innuendo made itself known and he averted his gaze. Not feeling comfortable enough to match Zabini’s remark, Harry made himself scarce, cursing the redness that rose on his cheeks as he did. 

~*~*~*~*~_ Dignity & Disdain _~*~*~*~*~

Harry and Ron were currently hidden behind a conveniently placed pot plant and a notice-me-not spell. Ron, because he had stolen a platter of little sandwiches and Harry because he needed a breather from smarmy politicians trying butter him up and bribe him so he would lend his name to their cause. It didn’t matter that he was uninvolved in politics.

Oh, it was never with anything so tawdry as money, everyone knew Harry’s feelings about outright bribery. But apparently, offers of the family holiday home, a case of aged Ogdens, and extra Quidditch tickets didn’t count; as if he couldn’t get all the ones he wanted anyway. It made Harry’s jaw ache from all the clenching and false smiles. 

He glanced at his watch and grimaced, he still had a little over an hour at this damn thing. 

“Oh come on, it’s not so bad is it?” Ron mumbled between bites. 

Harry glared at him, “Did you not notice that Slughorn’s here? He’s like my own personal matchmaker, he’s been introducing me to every eligible witch here.” 

Ron snorted, “Didn’t you tell him he was barking up the wrong tree?” 

“Yes, actually, I did. I thought the Annual Ministry Gala was the perfect place to come out and tell the world I was gay.” Harry sniped.

“Hey don’t get pissy at me,” Ron rebuked as he held up the tray in his hand, “tiny sandwich?”

Harry sighed and reached for one of the small delicacies and was about to bite into it when a familiar voice spoke next to them. 

“Merlin, Granger certainly came into her own,” came Malfoy’s voice and if Harry wasn’t mistaken, there was a little bit of awe tinged there. 

He exchanged a wide-eyed look with Ron. 

“If you’re into that sort of thing,” came Zabini’s smooth drawl. 

“Oh come off it, Blaise. It’s not like you can’t have the pick of the room if you wanted.” 

“I don’t want the pick of the room.”

“Still, there must be someone here to catch even your discerning eye.”

“If my eyes were what needed to feast, then perhaps I could be tempted.”

There was a pause and Harry and Ron both peered between the foliage. Malfoy looked a little confused as he looked over his friend.

“So, what are you looking for then?”

“Well, I thought I might start with actual intelligence but seeing as she’s on your dance card…”

“And the fact she doesn’t haven’t the parts you require in a lover,” Malfoy interrupted. “There’s plenty of others that would fit the bill, Potter’s sure to have some brains about him-”

Ron choked on one of the cucumber sandwiches and Harry hushed him. 

“-I heard he received seven Outstandings on his NEWTs.”

Zabini snorted elegantly, “He plays _ Quiddtich _, Draco, hardly a profession that lends itself to witty conversation. I’ve no mind to subject myself to mundane conversations about Quidditch strategies.”

Harry scowled and Malfoy laughed, 

“Get enough of that at home do you? I’m surprised it’s taken your mother this long to get rid of him. He must be good in bed.” 

Zabini made a gagging face.

“Hush, before you get someone we both love into a great deal of trouble.”

They moved on and Harry turned to Ron with his eyebrows raised incredulously. 

Ron shrugged, “Be grateful, if he liked you, you’d have to put up with him. And from what I’ve heard, Zabini’s a tenacious bugger when he wants to be.”

“Not that!” Harry hissed, though his cheeks did warm with a bit of humiliated embarrassment. “The bit about his mum!”

Ron rolled his eyes, “Oh come off it, mate, you haven’t forgotten who his mum is have you? She’s been tried in several countries for offing her husbands, nothing’s ever stuck. Just be grateful like the rest of us she picks pricks that society’s better off without anyway.”

~*~*~*~*~_ Dignity & Disdain _~*~*~*~*~

Harry worked his way through the crowd once more, intent on saying his goodbye’s to Ron and Hermione before leaving. He had been strongarmed into a few conversations with Kingsley and others and was now well past his contracted schmoozing allotment. 

He arrived in their company just as Malfoy was asking Hermione if might owl her some time. 

“With what intention?” Ron asked him, “Going to write her some poetry? Some pretty little versus?”

“Ronald!” 

Hermione hissed at him but it didn’t sway their friend from making it known Hermione was under their protection. 

“It won’t sway her you know, Krum did the same thing back in school-” 

“-and it certainly stopped that in its tracks,” Harry said as he approached and clapped a steadying hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I wonder who it was that first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love, eh?”

Zabini rose an eyebrow as both Malfoy and Hermione chuckled. 

“And here I thought poetry was the food of love?”

Harry shrugged, “of a fine, stout love, perhaps, but if it’s only the vague pretty words used in an attempt to bed someone, then one poor sonnet will kill it quicker than a kneazle after a common rat.”

Zabini hummed, “What then do you recommend to encourage affection?”

Harry smirked, “Conversation, even if one’s profession does not lend itself to witty remarks.” 

Harry watched as Zabini’s eyebrows flew up and Malfoy choked lightly on his drink. 

With a nod, Harry left them to it and exited the ball.


End file.
